


You know that thing you do when you fix whatever I’m doing wrong?

by nostabbingwednesdays



Category: Leverage
Genre: Caretaking, Episode: s01e11 The Juror Number 6 Job, Episode: s02e09 The Lost Heir Job, Episode: s03e03 The Inside Job, Episode: s03e05 The Double-Blind Job, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28892007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostabbingwednesdays/pseuds/nostabbingwednesdays
Summary: Five times Sophie gave Parker advice and one time she got some in return.
Relationships: Sophie Devereaux & Parker (Leverage)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	You know that thing you do when you fix whatever I’m doing wrong?

**One.**

Parker reached out and grabbed Sophie’s shoulders as she wobbled again in the stilettos she’d lent her. She couldn’t understand these shoes at all. She was used to moving easily and quickly but, in Sophie’s shoes, she felt like a toddler who couldn’t control her own limbs. Sophie held onto her arms to steady her.

“Are you okay?”

Parker scowled. “No. These shoes are stupid. I’m going to break my ankle.”

“You’ll get it,” Sophie assured her. “It just takes some practice. Look, don’t try to put your whole foot down in one go. You need to step on the heel first and try to take small strides.”

Sophie took a few steps to demonstrate, while Parker clung to the counter and watched closely.

“I’ll break my ankle,” she repeated.

Sophie reached her hand out towards her. “Here, I won’t let you fall. Remember, heel first.”

Parker took her hand cautiously and tried her best to copy Sophie’s movements. It felt awkward and unnatural, but at least she didn’t feel like she was about to crash onto the ground anymore.

“That’s much better! You can do this, Parker.”

Parker let go of Sophie’s hand and took a few steps with more confidence. She turned around and smiled.

“Yeah, I can.”

**Two.**

“But what will I talk to her about?”

Parker was due to meet Peggy for a coffee in twenty minutes but, right now, she was sat on the desk in Sophie’s office swinging her legs nervously.

“You’ve traveled a lot. You could talk about that.”

“To steal things,” Parker reminded her. “And you just said not to talk about stealing.”

“I know, but you must remember something about the places you’ve been besides what you stole there.”

Parker frowned. Australia had been stiflingly hot; she knew that much. But, besides that, she really only remembered the Rosalind.

“Maybe.”

“You know, most people are happy to talk about themselves. So, if you don’t know what to say, you can just ask her a question.”

“What kind of question?”

“Like, what’s her favorite movie? Where did she grow up? If she could travel anywhere in the world, where would she go? Something like that.”

“Okay. I can do that. Wait, what if she asks _me_ a question?”

Sophie smiled. “Then answer it, Parker. You might have to fudge some of the details because of your alias but, otherwise, just answer her questions.”

“Alright. Ask questions. Answer questions,” she pulled a face, still unsure of herself, then her eyes lit up as she had an idea. “I know! We can wear the earbuds and you can tell me what to say.”

Sophie shook her head. “No, Parker. Peggy likes you and she wants to be _your_ friend, not mine. You clearly did fine at the trial by yourself and you’ll do fine now.”

“What if I don’t? I’ve never really had a friend. Not one to go and meet for coffee and not talk about stealing. What if I say the wrong thing?”

Sophie leant against the desk next to her. “Parker, listen to me. If you’re being yourself, or at least as much yourself as you can be, then you can’t say the wrong thing. She asked you to get coffee, remember, so she wants to get to know you better.”

“She wants to get to know Alice.”

“You _are_ Alice. And she likes you because of you.”

Parker smiled. “Okay.”

Sophie handed her her purse. “Go on or you’ll be late. You’ve got this, Parker.”

Parker took the purse and hurried out of the door, leaving Sophie sat in her office wondering why she felt so nervous.

A few hours later, she was drinking a glass of wine at home when her phone buzzed with a text.

_Her favorite movie is Forrest Gump and she likes cats._

Sophie grinned.

**Three.**

Sophie wasn’t sure if it was helping her find herself, but sitting on a sun soaked beach in France with a cocktail was certainly more relaxing than Boston. As she sipped her drink, her phone buzzed and she picked it up.

Parker.

For a moment, she considered letting it go to voicemail but, remembering Hardison’s Russian fiasco, she knew she’d only worry if she didn’t answer. She put the phone to her ear and, before she could even say hello, Parker began an angry tirade.

“How could you do this to us? How could you try to replace yourself? She’s awful! She lied to us, Sophie! And she called me ‘adorable’. Did you really tell her I was _adorable_? Why would you do that? Tell her to go away. We don’t want her. We want _you_!”

“I take it Tara’s arrived,” Sophie sighed.

“Sophie! How _could_ you?”

“Parker, please calm down and listen.”

She heard an irritated huff, but Parker stopped ranting.

“I’m not trying to replace myself, not exactly. It’s just that you’re down a grifter and Hardison almost got himself killed trying to do it. It’s only temporary.”

“So you’re coming back?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“I miss you,” Parker complained. “And I hate _her_.”

“I miss you too, Parker. But, please, give Tara a chance.”

“She’s awful,” Parker insisted.

“You barely know her,” Sophie argued.

“Still. She’s not you.”

“Oh, Parker. I know. This isn’t about you, you know that right? I just need… I need some time.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“But I still care about you all. That’s why I asked Tara to help. She’s really good at what she does. First impressions aren’t always right, you know. You and Hardison and Eliot are all so much more than I realized when I first met you. I’m sure your first impression of me wasn’t entirely accurate either.”

Parker thought back to the first time she’d seen Sophie. “True. I just thought you were a terrible actress and maybe you’d been hit in the head.”

Sophie frowned. “Right… uh, well…”

“That’s not what I think now,” Parker added quickly, and Sophie smiled.

“Okay, so you see what I mean? When you got to know me, you changed your opinion, and if you just give Tara a chance and get to know her, you might find you like her.”

“Fine,” Parker agreed, grudgingly. “The boys hate her too, though.”

Sophie sighed. “Right. Tell them to call me tomorrow, okay? I’ll talk to them. And will you try to get them on board? I just want to keep you all safe.”

“I know,” Parker said, sadly.

“I really do miss you, Parker.”

“Yeah. I miss you too.”

**Four.**

Parker ran her hands over the decorative cushions and frowned.

“I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?”

“These cushions. They’re expensive and pointless.”

“It doesn’t have to be a cushion. There’s the paintings we looked at. Or the chairs.”

“I don’t see why I have to get anything at all,” Parker protested. They’d been in the furniture store for nearly an hour, and nothing Sophie had suggested was anything that she wanted or needed.

“I just think you might like to have something more homely.”

Parker picked up the nearest cushion and scowled.

“Why would an ugly cushion make my house more _homely_?”

“It doesn’t have to be a cushion,” Sophie repeated. “I think I’m going about this the wrong way. I just want you to have something that makes you happy.”

“I don’t like stuff. When you have to leave somewhere quickly it just makes things difficult.”

Sophie’s heart nearly broke as she thought of just how often Parker had had to leave suddenly.

“You don’t have to get anything if you don’t want to and I’m sorry if I’m pushing you,” Sophie assured her. “But, Parker, we’re here and we’re planning to stay. You don’t need to be ready to run at any second.”

“What about the time Hardison blew up the office and we moved to Boston?”

Sophie laughed. “Okay, fine, I’ll give you that. But even still, we don’t intend to make a habit of it. You can afford to have a few things. It’s not good to go home to somewhere dark or bare. I just thought it would be good for you to have something colorful or cheerful to make it a bit cozier.”

Parker considered this as inspiration suddenly struck Sophie.

“What about this?”

“A blanket?”

“Uh-huh, it’s cashmere. Feel how soft it is.”

Parker took the blanket and rubbed it against her cheek.

“It is soft. And I do like yellow.”

She agreed to get the blanket partially to bring the shopping trip to an end. She loved Sophie, but shopping with her could be exhausting. However, that night, curled up with Bunny under her new blanket, she had to admit that Sophie had a point. It was warm and cozy and had a lingering scent of Sophie’s perfume. She smiled. It did feel more homely.

**Five.**

“I said I had feelings about pretzels.”

“About _what_?”

“Pretzels. I panicked.”

Parker put her head down on the table and groaned.

“I have all these stupid feelings and none of them make any sense.”

“Feelings can be complicated,” Sophie agreed. “But we can work it out. Tell me what he said.”

“He said that the pretzels are here when I want them.”

Sophie smiled.

“I don’t know if he- or if he just-”

“Parker,” Sophie interrupted. “He got it.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, looking up hopefully.

“Positive.”

“Good,” Parker said, but then she sighed. “I just… I’m not sure how I feel. About the pretzels. I’ve not felt like this before and I don’t know what it means.”

“That’s okay, Parker. He said they’d be there when you want them, right? So there’s no rush. You don’t have to know exactly how you feel right now and nothing needs to change until you want it to.”

“Okay, good,” Parker said, relieved.

“Here,” Sophie handed her a glass of wine. “I’m proud of you, you know. It’s not easy to tell someone how you feel, especially if you’re not entirely sure yourself.”

Parker grinned as she took the glass. “Thanks.”

**+One.**

“Nuh-uh. No. Not a chance. Not in a million years. I won’t do it.”

“We need to get you into the building and this is the only way,” Nate insisted, but Sophie continued to shake her head.

“Find another way. It’s a 40-story building; I am not jumping off it.”

“You jumped off a building before,” Parker pointed out, confused by Sophie’s reluctance.

“That was different,” she insisted. “That was the only way I could think of to save you. We can find another way into this one.”

“Soph, this is the-”

“No, Eliot,” Sophie snapped, getting up from the table. “It’s not happening.”

“It’s only 40 stories,” Parker said when she’d left the room. “What’s the big deal?”

“Not everyone’s spent their life throwing themselves off things,” Hardison explained. “She doesn’t like heights and I’m with her on this one.”

Parker considered this for a moment, then hurried out of the door after Sophie.

She found her nursing a drink in the deserted bar and sat on the seat across from her, dropping a harness onto the table between them. Sophie took one look at it and shook her head.

“No, Parker,” she said firmly. “You can just go back upstairs with that. I’m not going to do it.”

“Hardison says you’re scared of heights.”

“Well, yes. I know you don’t think anything of jumping off a building, but that’s just not what I do at all.”

Parker nodded. “Like how I’m scared I’ll stab the mark when I try to grift, but grifting’s easy for you.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Sophie agreed.

“But I’ve been able to grift because you helped me and it’s not so scary now.”

“That’s good. I’m glad you’re more confident about it.”

“Yeah, so if you can help me not be scared of grifting, I can help you not be scared of rappelling.”

Sophie pulled a face. “No, Parker. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Parker held up the harness. “This is my rig. I know what I’m doing and I’ve tested it on Hardison, so it’s perfectly safe. When you jump, you don’t think about the height or the ground; you just think about the equipment. If you have a good rig, it doesn’t matter if the building’s two stories or two hundred; you won’t hit the ground.”

It made sense, but her two previous rappelling experiences had not been anywhere near as high and she hadn’t enjoyed them in the slightest. When she’d jumped off the I.Y.S roof, she’d at least been distracted by her need to save Parker from the mess she’d landed them all in, but she had no desire to repeat the experience.

“We can practice,” Parker went on. “This building’s only a few stories. We can do some test runs and then work up from there.”

“I don’t know, Parker. I don’t think-”

“If I can learn to grift, you can learn to rappel,” Parker insisted, confidently.

This was hard to argue with. She knew how difficult grifting was for Parker and she and Nate had pushed her when it was important to the con. She still thought there must be another way to get her inside, but she could hardly refuse to try when she’d shoved Parker outside of her comfort zone so often.

“Okay,” she agreed, reluctantly. “We can try.”

A few jumps in, and Sophie had to admit that it was getting better. If nothing else, she felt less like throwing up with each jump. Parker had talked her through it with uncharacteristic patience, showing her all the fail-safes and demonstrating how fool proof her rig really was.

Still, nothing could have prepared her for the sheer terror of standing 40 stories high.

“I can’t do it. I’m going to be sick,” she protested as Parker strapped them into the harnesses.

“Of course you can. We’ve done it before.”

“Not this high up.”

“I told you, remember. It doesn’t matter how high we are, just trust the rig.”

“I’m used to trusting myself. That’s a lot easier than putting my faith in a few bits of material.”

“Okay then, don’t trust the rig. Trust _me._ I’m controlling it and I won’t let you fall.”

Sophie smiled, then took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, Parker. I trust you.”

Parker smiled back. “You’ve got this, Sophie. Ready? On three.”

Sophie definitely wouldn’t be signing up to do it again in a hurry, but, at the very least, she knew she’d never hit the ground.


End file.
